One Hell of a Week in Soda's Life
by IslanderBib
Summary: Soda's POV about the fateful time when Pony and Johnny were gone -- Chapter 9 up 3-11-2009
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: **This was formerly planned to be a one shot, but I was encouraged to keep going and had some great help with re-beta-ing, so it is going to be about the whole week Pony's gone, all from Soda's POV.  
Please review.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of S.E.Hinton's charcters...; Descriptions taken from the movie by F.F. Coppola

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**Fateful Night**

Darry's fist landed hard against the doorframe, followed by swearing, which was so rare with Darry. I had the feeling the whole house was shaking. But in fact, it was only me shaking.

Darry had hit Ponyboy. I knew he hadn't meant to, but it had still happened. And it surely hadn't helped to improve Pony's opinion about Darry. Pony felt like Darry didn't love him, like Darry didn't care about him the way he cared about me. That wasn't true. Darry loved our kid brother a lot. And he was worried about Pony a lot. He just wasn't capable of showing it.

And he had so many worries himself. He worked hard – too hard – to earn money so we could stay together, so that Pony could finish school and go to college, do what Darry couldn't. Darry had never asked for his role as head of the family. He wanted to go to college, he could have made it, and he would have deserved it. But he had given up this dream after Mom and Dad were killed in an auto wreck. He had made huge sacrifices to keep the three of us together. He'd gotten himself two jobs, because he'd rather worked than sent me and Ponyboy to a boys' home. That was a great thing, the greatest thing he could have done to show how much he loved us. Why couldn't Pony see that?

I slowly went over to Darry and put my hand on his shoulder.

"He'll be back. Just let him calm down."

I was sure Darry already knew that there was no use in going after Pony now. It would only end in more fighting between the two of them; maybe all three of us, because they both always turned to me, hoping I would side with them. But I was just one single boy who loved both his brothers the same. I couldn't split myself in two, could I? It made me sick. I wanted them to stop all their fighting. I wanted them to stop turning to me and making me have to side with either one.

But as I said, I was sure Darry knew there was no use in going after Pony. He just needed to be reassured that him staying here rather than running after Pony was okay. He turned to me and in his eyes I could see all those worries about Pony, all the regret for having hit him, everything.

"I'm sorry Soda; I didn't mean to get at you." – He turned back to the door – "I didn't mean to get at Pony, either."

"I know, just let things calm down." I clapped his shoulder and headed for the kitchen.

"Coffee?" I asked. I knew it would be a long night, because no matter how many times as we told ourselves that our brother would be okay – that he'd come back – we'd still be unable to get to sleep until he was home.

"Yeah, thanks."

When I came back from the kitchen with a coffee for Darry and chocolate milk for me, Darry had finally turned away from the door and was sitting in the chair again. But he was still facing the door. And I caught myself glancing at the door every few seconds, too. Sometimes, a light wind would make the door creak and Darry and I would look at the door same moment with a start, only to lean back in our seats again resignedly, despairingly looking at each other.

I couldn't sit still for long. In fact, I never could. But this night it became especially hard. I began fidgeting on the sofa. I even found some Mickey Mouse magazine, that Two-Bit hadn't taken yet, between the cushions. I managed to thumb through it with only two times glancing at the door.

Finally, no longer able to stay sitting on the sofa, I got up. I started pacing around the room, but it didn't help anything. Then, I started washing up. That, at least, had the effect that we had clean glasses and cups again. As for calming me down, it wasn't of much use.

Darry wasn't very calm, either. He kept trying to read his newspaper. After some time he would fold it back together again, though, only to open it again.

After I had spent some of my fidgety energy in the kitchen I sat back down on the sofa. But I couldn't stay there for long, I downed the rest of my chocolate milk and got up again. This was one of the rare occasions that called for a cigarette. I couldn't help it. I started looking around if I could find one, or if luck would have it, Pony had them all with him, and didn't leave any behind for me.

"Soda, you're making me nervous. Sit down!"

"I can't, Darry; I can't sit still."

I found an open package in the bedroom. I put the pack in my back pocket and went out on the porch. I knew I could have smoked inside – Pony did it all the time – I just needed to get outside. I was about to go crazy inside.

It was cold outside, really cold, _freezing_. I was leaning against a pole when Darry joined me on the porch. We didn't talk. There was nothing to talk about. I wasn't mad at him for getting at me. If there was anything to be mad about it was the fact that he had hit Pony, but he felt bad enough for it, he didn't need me to scold him.

I finally broke the silence anyway, as there was something bothering me.

"He's only wearing a sleeveless sweatshirt, Darry."

"I know." Darry was plainly nervous.

"It's freezing."

"I know!" he raised his voice. Now it was his turn to start pacing around the porch. Then, he suddenly headed for the gate.

"I'm going after him," he announced.

"I'm comin' with ya."

"Stay here, in case he comes back," he was already walking down the street.

"No!" I wouldn't take that, so I ran after him. I would be far too nervous with both my brothers out in the night.

Everything about this night felt weird. I couldn't quite pin-point it, it just did. I was looking left and right on our way down the street. Left and right, hoping to see Pony some place. Maybe he'd cross our way, just about to get home. I even expected him to come up behind me, jump up my back, ruffle my hair and say, "Hey, Soda, you're looking for me?" But he didn't.

"Over there!" Darry's voice was like miles away, muted, unreal. And although I had been watching real hard all the way, I only just now realized we'd arrived at the park. I saw Darry walking over to some dark shape on the ground near the fountain. I felt my heart skip a beat or two. I ran after Darry, arriving at the fountain before him.

The ground around the fountain was wet like water had been splashed out. And there was blood, lots of blood, even the water of the fountain was red from blood. I stopped cold. I couldn't do anything but stare.

A boy was lying on the ground, the blood running from his side, pooling underneath him. His eyes were still open and the pale moonlight shimmered in them.

I turned away, too scared I might be sick if I kept looking.

Darry knelt down beside the body.

"Soc," he said, as if explaining. But it wasn't necessary, it was obvious he was a Soc, with his nice white trousers, his madras jacket.

"It's been quite recent. He's not very cold yet." How I hated Darry for that. It sounded … weird. As if it was normal to find some body in the park.

I felt cold shivers down my spine. What if Pony had killed that guy? Had Pony been alone? How would we know what happened? What should we do?

"I've got a feeling it's one of the ones that attacked Johnny."

Again Darry's voice brought me back from thinking. Which was good, because I wasn't good at thinking anyway. Let alone good at thinking of answers or solutions.

"Why?" I went over to look over Darry's shoulder.

"See those rings?" he asked, looking behind at me. I just nodded. Then, I sat down behind Darry, too confused, too worried to say a word.

We both kept silent for a while.

"It's all my fault." I didn't realize at first that Darry had said something, his voice was so low.

"D'you think Pony's really involved?" I asked, "It could have been Shepard's gang. Or…" I don't know whom I tried to convince, for I didn't believe my own words.

"You know gut feeling, Soda?" I only gave a nod in response, but Darry could feel it, since I had my head resting against his back.

"What are we gonna do, Dar? Go to the police?" Yeah right, get yourself a ticket straight to a boys' home, Sodapop Curtis!

"Sounds reasonable." It did, if you looked at it from a neutral position, but we weren't in a neutral position. That's why neither of us got up to make a first move.

"On the other hand," Darry began, and I knew it had to come. "On the other hand," he repeated, "if the police don't find this boy themselves, there's still the Socs who'll tell them."

"And Pony?" I didn't actually have to ask, but I needed to hear Darry say it.

"If he's involved they'll show up anyway." I don't know why he still used "if" when he'd been the one who told me about gut feeling. Maybe he didn't want it to sound as true as we both felt it was.

"But I don't want to have to tell them he ran out on me because I'm incapable to take care of my kid brothers. I don't want them to break us up, Soda. We only have each other left." I kept quiet. The police would still find out, sooner or later, what had happened earlier tonight, but Darry was right, there was no need to rush and rub their nose in it.

"We'd better go home," Darry got up and then helped me get up as well, "There's nothing we can do. And we still gotta go to work tomorrow. We'll see the gang tomorrow. He was at the movies with Dally, right? Maybe Dally knows more?"

There was nothing we could do right now. Nothing. Not a single thing.

Well, we could have gone to search for any of the rest of the gang, but it was some time after 3 o'clock. If we were lucky to find any of them awake, they'd be drunk or "occupied". No, Darry was right. We'd better wait 'til the morning and see what we'd learn then. Until then, all we could do was hope that Pony was alive and well.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of S.E.Hinton's charcters...; Descriptions taken from the movie by F.F. Coppola

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**Two-Bit's ****Report**

I couldn't sleep at all. Neither could Darry.

I had gone to mine and Pony's room the moment we had come back from the park. I had done my best to keep back tears that had been threatening to fall, but back home I cracked and I didn't want Darry to see. I let myself fall down on the bed and let them tears run. Tears of shock, anger, worry and panic.

At some point I thought I might just cry myself to sleep, so I actually undressed, slipped under the covers and tried not to imagine bad scenarios, that Pony could be in at the moment.

That free spot next to me in the bed, where Ponyboy should be, made it impossible not to think about him. And thinking of Pony resulted in worries, worries, more worries and, well, eventually in panic. I needed something to do. This was killing me. I slipped my jeans back on and put on my shoes. I went back in the living room.

Outside it was still dark and when I glanced at the clock it was way past four o'clock, about four thirty or something.

Darry was standing in the kitchen. He was making coffee, again. I don't know how much coffee he had already had that night, but I assumed it must have been quite a lot of cups.

My shirt was lying neatly folded on the sofa. It must have been Darry, since I had missed the sofa – again – when I had thrown it there. I put it on. I didn't bother with buttoning it up or putting on a t-shirt under it.

I was just about to open the front door, when Darry came in with his mug.

"Where d'you think you're going, Soda?" he asked.

"Looking for Pony." I looked at Darry only for a second and was out in the night. I usually wouldn't really go out alone, because of the Socs, but at that moment I didn't care.

"Hey, wait!" Darry was running up behind me, struggling with his jacket. "You ain't going alone."

I was thankful. I really was. And I guess Darry, in some way, was too, cause he was just as antsy and worried as me.

We weren't quite sure where to start looking. But since it was closest we went to Johnny's. With little hope though, because of Johnny's situation at home. He'd rather stay the night on the lot than at home. Darry still threw some pebbles at Johnny's window hoping for some reaction.

But there was no reaction. Nothing. So we went on to the lot. Not a soul there either. Well, 4:30 in the morning. If there had been someone it would have been Johnny. The fact that he wasn't made me guess or hope that after all, where ever Pony was, he wasn't alone.

"Where next?" I asked Darry panicky. I was hoping that Darry, our smart Darry, would know. But he shrugged.

"Two-Bit's?" he suggested. I half-shrugged, half-nodded.

"Damn, it's cold." I muttered on the way, finally buttoning up the shirt.

"You ain't no better than Pony, going out like that," Darry replied nodding at my shirt.

"But he's been out longer. He'll sure be sick." I put my arms around me, trying to get a little warmer.

At Two-Bit's Darry threw some pebbles at the window, again. Not wanting to wake up Two-Bit's mom and sister.

It took a while, but eventually there was light in Two-Bit's room and he appeared at the window.

"Shoot, Dar, you mad? You coulda smashed my window, Superman."

"Shut it, Mathews. You seen Pone?"

"Why? He ain't home?"

"Sure he is. It's just fun to wake you up at five and ask if you've seen 'im."

"Shoot! Hang on, I'm comin' down."

Two-Bit disappeared from the window, his light went off, and some seconds later he was out front.

"You seen him?" Darry asked again.

"Met him at the movies. We walked back together 'til we got to Johnny's place. Haven't seen them since."

"When?"

"Shoot, Dar, I don' know. Ten? Ten thirty? I'm not sure."

"You remember anything? Or had you drowned all your brain cells in beer, already?"

"Calm it, Darry. I'm gonna tell you all I know."

I didn't say anything. I was freezing. I was worried. I just couldn't say anything. I guess if I had tried, I might have started to cry. I felt tense and a lump was blocking my throat.

"Let's get inside. I'm freezin','" Two-Bit told us and only then did I realize he was wearing even less than me. He was only in a pair of jeans.

We went in the kitchen and sat down at the kitchen table. Two-Bit got himself a beer and offered us some too.

"No, thanks," Darry said and I only shook my head.

Two-Bit took a chair, turned it around and sat, so he could rest his arms on the back.

"So, where do I start?" he mused.

"The movies," Darry remarked dryly.

"Right," he took a gulp from his bottle, "When I arrived, Dally – he had gone there with them, remember? – was gone. Pony, he was chatting up this really pretty red-headed socy girl, and Johnny was sitting by Marcia—I'll tell you about her later—leave it to them to pick up two of the finest ladies in Tulsa."

Darry and I both just listened to what Two-Bit had to tell us.

"Then, after the movie was over, we wanted to give 'em a ride home, but had to walk to my place first, cos I didn't come by car, you see?"

When neither Darry nor I answered, but merely nodded he went on:

"So, we were walking with them gals and then their boys showed up – in a mustang, one tuff car. Anyway, they ordered the girls to come with 'em. And they started insulting us. There wasn't a fight though, because this Cherry gal said she hates fights, and we better stop, and that they'd go with 'em. That's it. Then Johnny, Pone and I went on 'til Johnny's, and we split."

"Those Socs," Darry asked, "did one have blonde hair, wearing rings and white pants?"

"Shoot, Darry, how'd I – "

"Think, Mathews!" Darry ordered.

"Tha' – Cherry's boy, I think he's got blonde hair. And he had rings," Two-Bit recalled.

"Damn!" That was my first contribution to that conversation. I felt any color fade from my face. "Ponyboy," I whispered.

Darry only had his eyes closed. Resigned, shocked, even more worried than before – if that was even possible. But I think it must have been, because it was just the same I was feeling. And above all panic.

The same moment Darry opened his eyes, his fist landed on the kitchen table, causing a plate and two cups that had been on the table to be lifted off lightly and fall back down noisily.

"Dammit!"

"Er – would anyone bother to tell me what's goin' on?" Two-Bit asked, slightly scared of Darry's sudden blaze.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of S.E.Hinton's charcters...; Descriptions taken from the movie by F.F. Coppola

**Chocolate Cake and Car Keys**

Darry had finished telling Two-Bit about his outrage, Pony's running away and the dead Soc in the park when Two-Bit took out a cigarette, lit it and got up to get another beer.

"They were seriously pissed off, huh? We were only taking care of their fine ladies while they got drunk." he mused, sitting down again. "Damn, I shouldn't have left them alone. Who'd have thought they'd come back?"

"There was no way you coulda known," I said, finally taking part in the conversation actively. "We should've gone after him right away." I still had the pack of cigarettes sitting in my back pocket so I took one, mirroring Two-Bit – except for the beer.

By now, things were still unclear, but in our heads, several possibilities had formed.

Pony was with Johnny and they had been jumped by jealous Socs who couldn't get over the fact their girls had been with Greaser boys. If it really was that boy with the rings that had caused that cruel scar on Johnny's face - though, it could have been anyone, because rings weren't that unusual - he must have recognized him. He must have been scared to death and used his blade.

Or maybe Pony had been on his own. After all, Two-Bit had last seen them in front of Johnny's place, maybe Johnny was actually at home and just hadn't heard us earlier, or didn't want to hear us, because of his parents.

So, maybe Pony had been alone when the Socs jumped him. He didn't have a blade, but the Socs could have threatened him with one and in his efforts to get away the blade slipped and the Soc got stabbed by accident.

But where was Pony now? Had he run away in panic? Was he on the run because it wasn't an accident but murder? 

What about the other Socs? Had they ran in panic? Or had they revenged their friend?

For heaven's sake – was Pony still alive?

We definitely had to go to the police sometime soon and tell them that Pony was missing. Even if I – and Pony – had to go to a boy's home, but we had to tell them, so they could help us find him.

It was unusually quiet for Two-Bit's company. We were all lost in our thoughts. All three of us were trying to blame ourselves for what had happened.

All I could think of was why I hadn't run after Pony. Why? I might have found him before the Socs came. I might have at least have come in time to help them. I might have, I might have, I might have … What use were might haves now that it was too late to use them?

Had it really been only the day before that we had come to help Ponyboy when he had been threatened by those other Socs? Had it really been only last night that I told him I wanted to marry Sandy?

Everything suddenly seemed so unreal, so far off.

"Soda?" Someone was shaking me on the shoulder – from the grip I knew it was Darry. "Soda, you're still with us?"

"Yeah," - I shook my head lightly - "Yeah, sure, why?"

Two-Bit started chuckling while Darry said: "Well, I was asking if you'll manage to walk home or if you'd rather sleep at Two-Bit's."

"Huh?" I really hadn't realised anyone had been talking to me until Darry shook me.

Two-Bit thought it was very funny and his chuckling turned into soft laughter.

"I," I started. Two-Bit's laughter wasn't fair, but this was Two-Bit, you know, the guy you can never be angry at. "Sure I can walk home. I can't sleep anyways."

"Well, you sure seemed to fall asleep two seconds ago." Darry said.

"No, I didn't!" I protested. "I was thinking."

"You?" If the whole mess with Pony wasn't in the air, I'm sure Two-Bit would have had the time of his life at that moment.

"Cut it out, Mathews," I tried to sound at least a little pissed.

"Well, I guess we better go home now. Try to catch some sleep before work."

"Yeah, and as I said, Darry, you two go work, try not to worry too much and I'll go try find out all I can. And when you're off work, I'll come with you to the police."

"Thank you, Two-Bit."

They really must have been talking while I was occupied with senseless thoughts. Funny how sometimes you can shut out everything around you.

At home, I occupied the couch to avoid that horrible evidence of Pony's absence, our bed. I only drifted off several times for only short moments, too antsy and worried to sleep, but too tired to try and stay awake and do something useful.

Darry and I were both up again far earlier than usual. Darry tried to talk me into eating more than only a slice of toast. He told me I needed to eat to have strength for work. I don't know how he managed to eat his sandwich – he had already eaten two when I finished my slice of toast – but I just couldn't get myself to eat.

When I heard Steve's car outside, I hurried out to meet him, shouting "I'll do the dishes during lunch break," in Darry's general direction.

I just wanted to get away, needed a change of scenery, and I didn't want Steve to come in.

I don't know why. If I had hoped that it would stop him from asking questions, I had succeeded at the opposite.

"Hey, we're not late, are we? I wanted to grab some chocolate cake and coffee at your place." Steve turned off the engine, instead of driving off to the DX.

"No chocolate cake today," I answered, sparing with words. Well, actually we did have some, but we hadn't put it on the breakfast table today, we both didn't feel like chocolate cake today. But I didn't tell Steve.

"Why not?" Steve wanted to know.

"Because."

"Something wrong with you?"

"No, I'm just fine," I lied, getting out of the car again. I went inside, took the cake and went back. "Here," I put the cake on Steve's lap, "Now, can we go to work?" I asked reaching over to his keys to start the engine.

"Hang on, Soda!" He pushed my hand away and covered the keys with his own. "Something's not right, not at all. And don't you start using that tone with me. That's not you, pal. I've known you for more than ten years. You tell me what's wrong. Now!"

I let my head fall back against the head rest. I should have known; I could never deceive my best friend.

"Pony's gone." I finally said.

"What? Why? Where?" I wondered if Steve could think of more w-words that could fit.

"I," I began, not sure whether to tell him now and risk that he left me here, telling me I shouldn't go to work, or to try convince him to drive off to the DX and I'd tell him then. I had a go at the latter. "Steve, look, I need to go to work. I need a change of scenery as well as my wage, so, please, can we go now and I'll tell you later?"

Steve looked at me for a while, wondering what to do, but then he gave in, knowing that I was right – after all, he had just said it himself, he had known me for me than ten years.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of S.E.Hinton's charcters...; Descriptions taken from the movie by F.F. Coppola

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**Back to Work**

We drove to the DX in silence. Naturally, I can't speak for Steve's thoughts, but mine still were much the same as only few hours ago: Where was Pony? Was Pony alive? What had really happened last night? Why haven't I gone after him right away?

But I wasn't only worried about Pony. I was also worried about Darry.

He tried to hide it from me, but I knew he was slowly breaking inside. His guilty feeling was eating him up. And – without wanting to blame him – he did have his part in the whole mess. But in some way we all did, didn't we?

It could as well have been all my fault. Things would have turned out differently if I hadn't tried to keep Darry from shouting at the kid. Or, at least, I could have run after him.

Damn, I _should_ have run after him.

We pulled up at the DX and set to our chores. It sure didn't mean either of us forgot there was still something we had to talk about – or rather, I had to tell Steve; it was just the natural thing to do.

Steve had completed an oil change and I had already filled up three cars by the time Steve came out with two bottles of coke. We sat on the fender of Steve's car, ready to talk.

I hadn't said a word yet when a blue mustang drove by slowly and one of the guys inside shouted "Next time it'll be one of your sort, bums!" at us from the open car window.

My heart stopped for a moment, and I was ready for any sort of fight they'd want, but for now they drove on.

Next to me, Steve muttered some thing about what he thought of those Socs, but when they were out of sight he turned to me.

"What was that about?" he asked. "Anything I don't know?"

"Guess that's a threat."

"Shoot, I figured that much."

I jumped off the fender as a car pulled in, and I went over to the pumps.

"First, you tell me something about your brother being gone. Then, Socs come threaten us. And I still have no idea what's goin' on," Steve called after me. "Would you just start talking?"

"Hang on, I've got a customer," I told him the obvious and filled up the car. Steve came over to stand next to me, waiting for me to tell him what was going on, but I didn't want the whole world to know that there was the possibility that my brother might have something to do with a deathly accident or murder or whatever it was.

"Not now," I hissed at Steve, hoping it didn't sound too harsh, because I didn't mean it to be harsh. But Steve would understand.

As soon as the car was gone he pulled me aside and, I had to keep a tight hold on the money, so it wouldn't fall out of my hand before I had it put away.

"So?"

"They were fighting again last night." No need to explain Steve who _they_ were. "Dar was mad because Pony came home too late. I tried to intervene and things got outta hand. Darry hit Pony. Pony ran. We waited for him to calm down, but when he still wasn't back much later, we went to look for him. That's when we found a dead Soc in the park."

"What?" Steve cried out. "Golly, tell me I just didn't hear right."

I sighed, "You did hear right."

"Nice, so now they wanna kill one of us. And the kid's still gone? He's got something to do with it?"

"I sure don't hope so, but we don't know nothing. Maybe he's only running away because of Darry, maybe he didn't have nothing to do with it at all." My throat felt dry and I was glad to have the coke Steve brought earlier. "We just don't know where to look for him anymore. We're goin' to the fuzz after work."

We didn't have much time to talk serious stuff much longer, 'cause we had customers coming and going, and the usual people who'd hang out at the station coming 'round.

Usually, I don't mind the flirty gals coming up with all kinds of excuses why they had to come to the station, while everyone knew why they really came – some, though, were blunt enough to admit.

Although Steve thought it was nice distraction for me with all those thoughts crowding my head, I just didn't feel like it. And I felt bad for Steve.

I mean, there were girls talking and flirting with Steve as well, but still, the larger bunch was always around me.

"'You and Sandy still coming to the Dingo with Evie and me tonight?" Steve asked when it got quieter and closing time was drawing near.

I had completely forgotten about that, though we had only arranged it last night at the game. It felt wrong to go out with Ponyboy missing. But we were going to go to the police later, so maybe that would calm down my worries, and an evening with Sandy still sounded better than sitting at home, thinking about nothing but Ponyboy.

"Sure we are," I replied.

It was only after I had answered, though, that I remembered Darry. Would he be okay? Could I leave him alone with his guilt, his worries about Pony, his knowledge that we might never be together again?

Geez, I shouldn't have gotten started with those thoughts; it only made me feel worse.

But not for long, because Steve thought it was the right time to make some stupid remark.

"Well, I hope Sandy'll manage to get you up. Your mood I mean," he added with a wink.

I took a swipe at him, but he ran. I chased after him, actually laughing for the first time in what seemed like an eternity; though, it hadn't even been 24 hours.

"Lookit, they have little kids working at a station."

We hadn't heard any car, and we didn't see one pull up – our chase had led us behind the building. So when we came back to the front and saw Two-Bit leaning against the pumps, we both stopped sharp with a start.

"When d'you get here?" Steve asked.

"Oh, you know, I have a date with both those good looking Curtises. I don't know if you've ever heard of them, some real hoods." Two-Bit replied, snickering when I hit him on the back of his head.

"You'd have more luck if you were a girl, Two-Bit," I grinned.

"Yeah, guess I ain't that lucky. Anyways, Darry told me to tell you that he'll pick us up right here. And if you complain about needing a shower before going to the fuzz, I'm allowed to empty a bucket of water over your head."

"Let's start getting ready, Soda," Steve said after glancing at the watch hanging above the office door. "I hope you're allowed a shower before I'll see you at the Dingo, though."

I only rolled my eyes at him.

Even though Two-Bit was here to come with us to the police, I felt better. I don't know if it was our childish chase, Two-Bit, or just the fact that I had been working all day. Maybe it was the anticipation of seeing Sandy later.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of S.E.Hinton's charcters...; Descriptions taken from the movie by F.F. Coppola

* * *

**Fuzz Fuss**

We'd been waiting quite a while for Darry to arrive. Usually, on days when he would pick me up, I'd wait no more than about five minutes after closing everything down for him to come. This day, however, Two-Bit and I had been waiting at least twenty minutes. Steve had already left – he'd been waiting with us for about ten minutes – saying he wanted to spend some time with Evie before our double-date tonight.

So when Darry arrived and Two-Bit and I climbed into our pick-up, I couldn't help it and asked Darry what'd taken him so long.

"Maybe he's taken the shower he refused to you," Two-Bit suggested.

I think he was lucky I was sitting between him and Darry. Nearly everybody is too afraid of Darry or his muscles to get cheeky with him. I guess I might be the only exception here, and Two-Bit – well, Two-Bit just can't help it.

From the corner of my eyes I could see Darry clench his teeth, and he was quiet while pulling out of the station.

"Well," he finally began, having calmed down some, "I actually was home, yeah, but to get some picture of Pony," he explained and with an angry look at Two-Bit added: "not to take a shower."

"Why would you need a picture of Pony?" I asked.

"For the fuzz," came the answer from both sides - left and right.

"If you report a person missing, they usually want you to hand them some recent photo of that person so they'd know who they're looking for," Darry went on.

"Oh," I simply said. I thought they'd make an sketched picture that they put all the features together and come up with something that looked like him, like they did with criminals. But I didn't tell that to Darry.

"What's new, Two-Bit?" Darry asked. Up on his roofs Darry never got much of recent gossip, so we always had to fill him in after work. I wondered why I hadn't asked Two-Bit yet, because, apart from the threat, it had been surprisingly quiet at the station as far as Socs were concerned.

"The Wilson twins, Artie and Jeff, they got jumped by a coupla Socs down at the train station. Man, they had it bad, I'll tell you. And Mic Cox had a blade pulled at him by a Soc outside the record store, but held him off with a busted pop bottle. Said he hadn't been in the mood. Jeez, if he had been, I bet there'd been another dead Soc. You don't mess with Mic, unless you really have a reason. And everybody's talking about the dead Soc, but nobody knows a thing about who's done it."

"What about the Socs?" Darry asked. "I mean, that kid in the park, he sure hadn't been alone."

"They're not talking. At least no one's heard them mention any hints. They're just happy jumping any greaser in revenge."

All three of us sighed simultaneously.

When Darry parked outside the police station, a couple of cops standing around a patrol car and drinking coffee looked at us suspiciously and when we passed them as we went inside, I heard bits of what they said: "extr'ordinary sight; hoods coming here on their own free will" and "turning themselves in" and even "Dallas Winston".

No one would deny that Dally was known by nearly every cop in Tulsa, and neither could I deny that we were known – not as 'famous' as Dally, that's for sure, but Two-Bit wasn't far behind Dally, and it wasn't that long ago that I had to spend a night there together with him. And Darry, yeah, even Darry had had his glorious moments, when he had still been in high school, but as a senior he realized colleges wouldn't appreciate a thick police record, and since mum and dad were dead, well, he didn't even have time to get into trouble… And, yeah, well, we were known for hanging around with Dal…

"Mr. Curtis, Mathews, Sodapop," the officer behind the counter said with a slight sly smile as we stepped into the station's questioning room. Seems we really were known. "What a nice surprise. You're going to turn yourselves in for the murder in your neighborhood?" the officer continued, and I could feel the others tense up too.

I knew my brother well enough to know he clenched his teeth when he took a deep breath before he answered.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, but we came to report a missing person." Darry said, sounding far more relaxed than he was.

"Well, no surprise there. If I lived in that neighborhood, I'd run away a long time ago."

In my pockets, my fingers tightened into fists. I couldn't stand snot-nosed police officers. In fact, I couldn't stand anyone who treated us like trash – which nearly everyone did who wasn't from the East part…

"Really? Now that's funny, isn't it? We ran there to get away from you snobs," Two-Bit told the officer.

"Don't," I warned Two-Bit. I didn't want this to turn into something it wasn't supposed to be. I was upset about the cops sly remarks too, but more than that I just wanted to know what happened to Ponyboy and wanted the fuzz to help us.

Two-Bit was about to let it go, turning around and looking for something he could look at while we made the report, but not the cop.

"You better be careful, Mathews. You know, insulting an official is a penal offence."

"You didn't sound much like an official to me," Two-Bit muttered and jumped – as did I – when Darry hit the counter with his hand.

"Dammit, Once in my life I need the help of the police and what do I get?" he asked in a very angry tone. He was so loud and angry, he even made another officer come in.

"What's wrong?" he asked. "O'Reiley?" He looked at his colleague. "Boys?" Then at us.

The first officer – apparently named O'Reiley - didn't say a word. Instead, he looked a bit ashamed. The other officer seemed to be a bit older and also more important.

We didn't feel like saying anything either. The older officer looked from O'Reiley to us, from us to O'Reiley. Finally, we all started at once.

"We wanted…"

"He insulted…"

"Our brother…"

"Stop, boys. When you're all talking at once, I can't understand a word. You tell me what's going on," he said nodding at me.

I moved a little closer to the counter. Then I said: "He – Officer O'Reiley started making mocking remarks the moment we got in here. We wanted to report our brother missing, but he kind of insulted us. And Two-Bit just mocked back, and Darry got angry, and…"

"So, Officer O'Reiley didn't really take you serious, but you had a missing person report to make, did I get you right?"

We nodded all three in agreement.

"Well then, you come with me into my office, and I'll take your report." He lifted the bar of the counter and ushered us into his office.

"I am sorry about this incident," Sergeant Brooks – the name plate on the desk said so – told us. "So, your brother is missing you said?"

"Yes," Darry answered. "He has been missing since last night," I added.

"Since when exactly?" Brooks wanted to know.

"After two in the morning," I began unsurely.

"About two fifteen," Darry specified. Who was that guy? A living clock?

"That was when you last saw him?"

Darry and I nodded.

"Actually, Sergeant, I last saw him about ten or ten thirty," Two-Bit chimed in.

"Thank you Mr. Mathews," Brooks said, actually with a slight smile on his face.

"You're welcome," Two-Bit replied with a much bigger smile.

"So about two fifteen in the morning your brother goes missing," Brooks resumed. "Name and age?"

"Ponyboy Michael Curtis, age fourteen."

"Why did a fourteen-year-old leave the house at that time of day, or should I rather say night?"

Darry sighed and looked at me with a painful and guilty expression. I sighed too. There it was, the moment we hadn't looked forward to at all.

Darry wasn't a bad brother. There was no need to send me – and Pony? – to a boys' home!

"Well, I'm waiting," Brooks said.

"Serge, there was a fight, because Pony came home late," Two-Bit finally answered.

"Yeah, he was supposed to be home by twelve, but he fell asleep on the vacant lot at the corner of our block, and he only came home after two. I got upset with him and hit him. I didn't mean to, but he ran," Darry explained.

"We thought he'd come back, but after some time we went to look for him. We didn't find him though," I added.

"Mr. Curtis," Brooks began after a while, "I'm aware that you have taken over the role as head of the family after your parents' death. I am sure that you are aware of the conditions for this situation to stay like this."

"Yes, I am," Darry said, his voice steady.

"Then, I won't need to tell you that the social authorities don't like the circumstances under which your brother went missing."

"He didn't mean to hit him!" It wasn't fair. It just wasn't.

"I believe you. I have two sons and I know what raising teenagers can be like. I wanted you to be aware of it that, in your situation, they just might have a closer look at you," Brooks explained.

Darry got Pony's photograph out of his pocket.

"I, erm, I thought you might need this, and I wrote the address on the back," Darry said, as he handed Brooks the photo. Then he got up and we, Two-Bit and I, did too.

"Thank you, Mr. Curtis, and I will contact you as soon as we have news."

When we left the office, another cop went inside and before we were out of earshot and the office door was closed, I heard him say, "Sergeant, we have the facial composite pictures for the park murder case… "

* * *

**Author's Note:** I'm very sorry that this chapter took so long, but "real life" kept me extremely busy.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of S.E.Hinton's charcters...; Descriptions taken from the movie by F.F. Coppola

* * *

**A Night Out**

Standing in front of the mirror, I buttoned up my jeans and put on a fresh T-shirt. I rubbed my hair dry and tried to remember where I had my good shirt, which I had been planning to wear.

"Darry, have you seen my shirt?" I called from the bathroom.

"Which one?" Darry asked, while packing his bag for gym.

"The good one, the red one," I replied, combing back my hair with some grease – only a little, because Sandy didn't like getting sticky fingers.

"It's exactly where you last left it, pal, under your bed," Darry told me. Sometimes I really wonder how he keeps track of everything. "And by the way, you'd better clean the bedroom up sometime soon, Soda. You never know who's gonna show up."

"Yeah, I know. I'll do it tonight," I promised, while I went to my room.

"Shouldn't you be sleeping tonight?"

"I know I won't be able to sleep, if Pony's not back." I told my brother. I buttoned up my shirt half way and went to the kitchen, where Darry had gone in the meantime.

I got myself a big glass of tab water and downed it quickly. I got into the habit of doing so, so I wouldn't go to the Dingo all thirsty and spent too much money on drinks.

"You sure you don't mind me going out with Sandy tonight?" I asked for about the hundredth time this evening.

"Soda, I told you, I'm fine. I'm gonna go to the gym, you go out with Sandy. We both wind down and stick to normal as much as we can. It won't change anything if we sit here all day and mope around the house." I might have gotten this answer just about as often.

"You want me to drop you off at the gym?" I asked, picking up my jacket from the sofa and heading for the door.

"No, I'm gonna walk; just pick me up, after bringing Sandy home," Darry said as we left the house together.

"Alright, no problem, man. I'll see you later."

"And, Soda," – I was already halfway inside the car – "don't forget that Sandy's gotta go to school tomorrow," Darry reminded me, winking at me.

"Sure," I said, rolling my eyes. It wasn't like I didn't know, just because I was a drop-out. Was that what he was hinting at? Sometimes I really didn't know if Ponyboy was the only one really bothered by my dropping out. And how could I possibly forget anyway? Her mom would remind me in her usual don't-you-dare and you-can't-be-trusted tone, and Sandy, afraid of her mom, would remind me, too, not to bring her home late.

* * *

Sandy's mother opened the door – almost before I had even knocked, but I was lucky and hit the door, not Sandy's mom.

"Ev'ning, Sodapop," she said in a sugary tone that failed to hide the fact she didn't like me very much. But I guessed that it was just a mother-type thing, that they just generally don't like boyfriends.

She still let me come inside to wait for Sandy to get ready. I didn't sit down in the living room but waited standing next to the door.

When Sandy came downstairs she looked as lovely as ever, with her blonde ponytail swinging from side to side. But something was still different. It was the usual sparkle in her eyes; it was kinda missing. Coming to think of it, it had already been missing yesterday; and, maybe I was really just imagining things, even the day before.

She was still smiling at me though, but it seemed a little fake. Or I was simply imagining things, because, although I really meant it, my own smile felt somewhat fake in all the Ponyboy mess.

"Let's go," I said as she pecked me on the cheek.

"Yeah," Sandy replied. "Bye, Mom, night, Dad," she called into the general direction of her parents as we headed for the car.

"Sandra, you're home at nine thirty. That clear?" her mother called after us, coming out onto the porch.

"Yes, mom, crystal," Sandy answered.

"And Sodapop, you don't bring her home a minute too late."

"Yes Ma'am," I told her. I was glad when we were finally in the car, heading off to the Dingo.

* * *

Outside the Dingo, Steve and Evie were talking to Neil Jenkins and his girlfriend, Donna Wilson, the younger sister of the Wilson twins.

We got out of the car and walked over to them.

"Curtis." Neil held out his hand.

"Jenkins," I said, shaking it.

Evie stopped talking to Donna and pulled Sandy away to the side. Girls, I thought, I'm never gonna understand them.

"Hey, Donna, how're your brothers?" I asked.

"They'll make it. But they're furious; I don't think they'll wait long for revenge. They had no idea why they were jumped in the first place and then they learn it's because some Soc got killed." – Donna shook her head – "How would you feel, being attacked for something you didn't do and didn't even know about in the first place?"

I felt pretty weird about that question. I hadn't killed that Soc, but I had a vague idea about who did, and it had happened in our neighborhood. It wouldn't be long before both Socs and other greasers would come looking for us to blame it all on us. Well, unless we finally found out who had done it.

God, I only wanted Pony to come home, and everything to get back to normal. But it would never again be just the way it had been.

I didn't know if I had to answer that question or if it only was rhetorical. And if I had to, what would I say? That the Socs had every right to suspect our gang? No way! No matter what, they didn't have any damn right to jump us like this, like they had the Wilson twins and Mic and who knows who else, whose news hadn't yet been spilled.

I was saved from answering by Neil doing it:

"When Jeff and Artie take their revenge, they can sure count on me. They think they can walk around, digging shit like that? Well, I tell them they can't. It's like they started a war we don't know about, only that we are the other party."

"We've always been, Jenkins," Steve replied.

"Yeah, but we knew why they jumped us, we knew if we slashed their tires, or picked on their girls, or just teased and burned them up."

"But we also know what set them off this time."

"I wished the fuzz would spill some information so we would know if we should protect the one who did it, or make it our own business to punish him…" That's what it's like among greasers; stick together, or fight among ourselves if one deserves it. And causing trouble for other greasers by killing a Soc might call for a deserved fight. Might – Stick Together, though, would most probably count much more in this case.

"I guess we'll know soon enough," I said, thinking about the facial composite pictures that cop back at the police station had mentioned. But I didn't mention them to Neil. I didn't want to explain what I'd been doing there.

But I didn't have to explain what made me say that, because Evie and Sandy seemed to have ended their girls-talk – or whatever it is girls do when they drag one another aside – and came back over to us.

"You guys gonna take us out, or are you gonna talk here all night?" Sandy asked, claiming my hand.

"We were just finished," I said hastily. I slipped my arm around Sandy's waist, said goodbye to Neil and Donna, and, with Sandy, Steve and Evie, headed inside the Dingo.

* * *

"So, how did it go?" Steve asked, after we had sat down in a booth and had our orders taken.

"How did what go?" Evie wanted to know.

"The fuzz," I said. "He wants to know how things turned went when Darry and I went to the station."

"What? Why would you go there?" Sandy asked.

I sighed and rolled my eyes at Steve, letting him know that I didn't think this was a great subject to talk about on a date.

"Because Ponyboy's missing," I explained.

"The kid? Why?" Evie never called Ponyboy anything but _the kid_; I wondered if Pony knew, and how he took it.

"Because of Darry," I replied, sparing with more explanation.

"So, tell me, how did it go?" Steve repeated, before Evie and Sandy could ask more, and this time the question was more appreciated than the first time.

"Well, if you forget about the stupid cops and their oh-so-funny remarks about greasers and our neighborhood, it wasn't that bad," I answered. "And I guess, we'll know very soon, who killed that boy, because when we left the station, I heard a cop say that they have those drawn pictures of the suspects now."

"The kid went missing the same night that Soc boy was killed? Isn't that some weird coincidence?"

"Evie!" Steve said, kind of shocked.

"Yes it is; and I'm quite worried because of that. But we don't know nothing yet," I admitted.

Sandy grabbed my hand and squeezed it.

"I hope it's just a coincidence," she said encouragingly. "Oh, I love that song," she added, when the song on the jukebox changed.

* * *

I absentmindedly watched the fly which had gotten into the car.

"You okay?" Darry asked. When I had picked him up at the gym, we had switched and he was driving now.

"Yeah, I guess," I said.

"Okay." Darry didn't ask further questions; I guess he just assumed it was the obvious.

But it wasn't just the obvious. I was wondering why Sandy wanted to talk to me – in private – during her lunch break tomorrow. She never, or rarely, came over to the DX during lunch break at school, because she normally spent it with Kathy, Evie and other girls.

And not only had she wanted to get home in time because of her parents, but because she felt real tired. It had been nine twenty-five when I had pulled up in front of Sandy's house. Who was tired before ten?

I was brought back from my reverie, when we pulled into our street and Darry suddenly said: "What's that police car doing in front of our house?"


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of S.'s characters - discriptions taken from F.'s movie

* * *

**The Truth … ?**

The armchair used to be Dad's place. Somehow, it always gave me a feeling of safety, to know that, when I get home in the evening, after a night out with the gang or a date, Dad would be right there, sitting in his armchair, reading his newspaper and waiting for his boys to come home safely.

He would also see immediately if we had had a good or a bad day. He'd let us sit on the rest and comfort us if we needed him to.

The first few weeks after our parents' deaths had been Hell, and it was unsettling to come home and find no one sitting in the armchair. Nobody would dare to sit in it, not Pony, not Darry, not me. Not Two-Bit, Johnny and Steve; not even Dally. Or maybe _especially_ Dally.

It had taken Darry a long time, but eventually he claimed the armchair. And I have to admit that I'm very thankful he did. It had brought back some kind of normal, and cozy and comforting feeling.

And it was Darry who now sat in the armchair - with me sitting on the rest - while we were both listening to what the cops had to tell us.

"So, when the facial composite pictures came in," one of the two cops started and I felt my heartbeat speed up; I knew what was coming next. "...We quickly had them identified as your brother and John Cade."

Now my little brother was officially a suspect in a murder case. Murder? Was it really murder? I didn't believe in murder, not with Pony and Johnny involved, I strongly believed in self-defence.

"Then why are you coming only now, You've had them quite some time now, didn't you?", I was aggravated.

Darry and the cops turned to me with puzzled faces.

"I – I overheard someone tell Sergeant Brooks that the sketches where done when we left the station," I looked down at the floor scratching the small of my neck.

"Well, yes we did have them some time now, but there's bureaucracy that takes time and when we got here, you weren't home, so we waited," the other cop said.

"You waited? Didn't you have anything better to do? Like finding Johnny and Pony? Or finding out that it's not been murder?", I wasn't in any mood to stay calm. Darry on the other hand did and tried to make me do so too by laying his hand on my arm.

"Mr Curtis, there're actually more cops than just the two of us involved in this case, and I can assure you, that we all are taking our work very serious," the first cop said. Then he added, "And actually, we didn't wait that long, because we'd been waiting for interim results of the investigation so we wouldn't come to you empty-handed. We have some more questions for both of you, which we would like to ask you separately."

Darry and I looked at each other sceptically. Then Darry nodded slightly.

"Alright then, I'll start," he told the cops.

"No, we'll do them at the same time; in another room," one cop said and stepped closer to show one of us to get up and be questioned. I did as he wished and led him onto the porch. I wouldn't want the cop in Pony's room. Not yet, at least. Not as long he didn't have to. And apart from Darry's room there was no other room; at least none suitable for a separated interrogation.

"Tell me about Sunday night," the cop demanded as soon as we were outside.

I leant against the rail, propping myself up on the handrail. I took some deep breath trying not to miss out on details the fuzz might be interested in.

"Pony was with Dally and Johnny," I began, but was interrupted by the cop asking for confirmation that it was Dallas Winston I was talking of. I nodded in response and went on: "They went to the Nightly Double, but already met in the afternoon – I know, because they came by the station where Steve and I work." I struggled to go on, too scared of telling the cop about the fight. I turned around and stared at the street as if to find the answer there.

"Mr. Curtis?"

"Well," I went on, but didn't turn back to face the cop, "Pony didn't come home," – I settled for half-truth – "And we waited. But when he wasn't home until late, we went to look for him. We couldn't find him in his usual places. But we met with Two-Bit and he told us that he'd been with Pony and Johnny at the movies and about what had happened on their way home."

"What did he tell you?"

"He told us about two Soc girls, erm, girls from the West side. Some Cherry and Marcia, I have no idea about their last names. Well, Two-Bit said they were walking them girls to his place to take them home by his car. And then the boyfriends of them girls showed up and they were really pissed that their girls were with greasers so they wanted to pick up a fight but the girls had them let it go. From Two-Bit's discription we figured it might be one of those boys – the one who was in the park." I stopped as I had no more information for the cop. Instead I looked at him expectantly, hoping that he would give me some of the answers I wanted and needed.

"Thank you, Mr Curtis. Now would you please wait here," the cop told me and already had the door knob in his hand.

"Wait!" I didn't think it was fair – but then, what would you expect from the fuzz? I had told them everything I knew, but they told me nothing...

"What? Did you think of anything else?"

"No, but –," I paused. I didn't have a chance to get any information; not with my brother being a suspect. "Just," – maybe – "tell me who he was, please."

"His name was Robert Sheldon. And if you were talking about Sherri Valance you were right, he was her boyfriend." With that he was back inside the house before I could thank him. At least I knew a tiny bit more now. I wasn't sure I could use that information in any way, but I was satisfied that the cop had had told me anything at all.

* * *

A/N: I'm very sorry that this chapter took so long, but writer blocks and real life held me from being able to post anything :)  
And I wanted to thank my beta reader a thousand times: You're best!


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of S.E. Hinton's characters - discriptions taken from F.F. Coppola's movie

* * *

**When It Rains It Really Pours**

After another sleepless night, during which I cried most of the time, because I missed Pony and was real worried about him, we found that Ponyboy's and Johnny's pictures, along with the "park murder" report, had made the front page of the newspaper. Steve and Two-bit didn't show, and I wondered if they were scared off by the newspaper or if they just didn't come because Pony wasn't here to be taken to school. And I started wondering about Dally, 'cause I hadn't seen him since Sunday afternoon. It wasn't that unusual that we didn't see Dally for days, but with all the stuff going on, I would have thought he'd show up. We had a very quiet breakfast, and then Darry took me to the station and drove off to work.

I was restless all morning, but though Pony was still high up in my mind, he only came second this time. Sandy had said she needed to talk to me, and that she would come during her lunch break.

I felt conflicted; on the one hand, I wanted to know what she had to say as soon as possible and wished she'd had come before school started. On the other hand, I didn't want to know at all. She'd made it sound real serious, and we'd never had such serious talks before. I didn't like the idea and had a real bad feeling about what was to come.

The day dragged on too slow – but still too fast. Every time a car came up, I wished it was Sandy. And when it wasn't I was thankful.

But eventually it was time for Sandy's lunch break, and soon she pulled up on the DX' parking lot.

I hurried over to her, "Sandy, babe." I wanted to kiss her, but she turned her face away.

"Soda don't, please."

"What's wrong?"

"Let's talk inside." She indicated her car and was already slipping back onto the seat. I shook my head, confused and got inside the car.

Sandy was gazing out the window, and I waited for her to start talking. No one said a word while, in my head, I could hear the seconds tick away and turn into minutes. Finally, I dared reaching out for her hand. When she turned to look at me, she had tears in her eyes.

This was hard; I wasn't good dealing with crying girls. It made me feel uncomfortable.

"Sandy?"

"I – Soda, I – " she sobbed, "I wouldn't – wouldn't – have thought – that it'd be – so hard."

"What, Sandy, what is?"

"I'll – I have to – Florida – I gotta go to Florida, to my grandmother."

I didn't understand. It wasn't anywhere near any vacation time and Labor Day had just been yesterday.

"But – " Sandy looked at me with despair written all over her face. That's when I got what she was saying. "You – you're – but – ?" I stuttered. "We're going to have a baby."

"It's not yours." Sandy whispered; then she pressed her lips together and fresh tears started rolling down her cheek. She shook her head real slowly to let the meaning sink in.

It felt so wrong, so terribly wrong. Why shouldn't it be mine? Sandy wouldn't – Not Sandy, not my Sandy.

"You're lying!" My heart was racing with anger, and my throat felt tight with disbelief. "You're lying, Sandy, it's mine! You don't have to protect me. You can say that it's mine. I'll marry you, Sandy. Marry me. You don't have to go." The words spilled out as if to keep back tears.

"No, Soda," Sandy looked straight into my eyes when she said the words, "It isn't yours. And I'm so, so sorry! You have to believe me. I love you. I'll always love you."

_Obviously not._ "Then why not marry me?" I couldn't help thinking of Dally – or rather Sylvia, and how she cheated on him over and over again, and how they still seemed to be unable to be without one another. So maybe, even if it wasn't mine – which I still just couldn't believe - Sandy and I could just go on as always, only that I had to marry her earlier than I'd planned. But we could do that. Darry would understand. Ponyboy would understand. Even Steve would understand.

But would Sandy's parents? They've never really approved of me. Maybe Sandy wasn't protecting me from husband and father duties so much as she was protecting me from her parents' anger. Maybe she had to make me believe it wasn't mine so I would stick to the same story she'd told her parents. Told them it wasn't mine to keep them from hating me completely. If that was the case, maybe they would start liking me better, when I offered to be the father for a stranger's child.

That had to be it, for Sandy just wasn't the cheating type, was she? And why would Sandy have done it anyway, and when? She wasn't like Sylvia. And – and I hadn't been in the joint at that time, like Dally usually is when Sandy cheats on him. Or was it when I had been? With Two-Bit, for cart wheeling on the sidewalk. However, it'd been only one night, and wouldn't it be showing yet, if it had been then?

"Soda, you don't understand."

"What don't I understand?" There were a couple of things I didn't understand. Like, why she would tell me it wasn't mine. Or why she didn't want to marry me instead of being sent away. Or why, if it really was true, she'd cheat on me.

"I can't marry you, Soda. Think about my parents

" What about them? They'd send her all away across the country, before they'd let my marry her? Sorry, no way I could understand _that_.

"Lemme talk to them. It'll be fine."

Sandy looked away.

"What? Lemme at least try."

She turned to me then with a twisted look on her face. "But … I … Soda, I could never live with that. Seeing you raise the child of another boy. Seeing you hurting every day because it isn't yours. Knowing I can never ever make up for that."

"You can Sandy. I'll be fine. Trust me. We'll have more kids. And we'll always be together, because we love each other."

"How can you be so sure?" She mumbled with her chin tugged to her chest. "I've already made one mistake. What if I'll make more?"

I didn't answer that one. I couldn't. She'd hit the weak spot. It sounded like a threat; like a bad promise she'd really keep. I looked out of the window and took some deep breath to calm down. I couldn't.

I opened the door and stepped out. "Lunch'll be over in a bit, you better get going." I walked away from the car without looking back. Part of me wanted to - wanted to know if I hurt her now. I wanted it to be that way, but I also wanted to go back and comfort her.

I kept going, sat down by the gas pumps and didn't look up or back until after I'd heard her car speeding away.

"Hello, Mrs. Multon." I'd left as early as we could close down the station and had Steve tell Darry I'd walk home.

"Soda? We didn't expect you here. Sandy's … she's … well, she's packing. Didn't she tell you?" For once, Sandy's mom wasn't all sugary. She really seemed surprised to see me.

"Well," I swallowed a huge lump down my throat. "That's kinda why I'm here. I … erh … wanted to talk to you. And your husband."

"I don't see why. If Sandy's told you, then I think everything's said."

"Not quite. Please, Mrs. Multon?" I was about going all sugary myself.

Sandy's mom led me to their living room, where her husband was sitting on the couch, reading the newspaper.

"Soda?"

"Ev'ning, Mr. Multon," I said casually, though I really didn't feel like that at all. Mrs. Multon and I sat down, while Mr. Multon watched me surprised and expectantly.

"So, what did you want to talk about, Sodapop?"

"I … well … I thought … that … well, I mean," I stuttered, not sure how to say what I wanted. "I mean there, there is a way Sandy wouldn't have to leave."

"You're thinking about marrying my daughter, aren't you?" Sandy's dad rose from the couch so quickly, I thought he might just rise up and hit the roof. The news paper was clenched in his fist. "You can forget that. Forget any trace of a thought connected to that idea in your head. You're sixteen, for god's sake. You dropped out of school, you're not going nowhere. You're not gonna take Sandy there with you. She's better than that—better than you." He drop the paper on the coffee table. "Your brother was in the paper today—murder, huh?"

Pony's photo was staring up at me. Mr. Multon might as well have hit me in the face.

"But…"

"There's no 'but' Sodapop Curtis! Get out!"

It was clear that there was no point in arguing any further. He couldn't be reasoned with. So I did what he asked. I backed out; my eyes already burning with the tears that were about to fall any moment. The last thing I saw when I left the Multons' house was Sandy standing on the top of the stairs looking at me furiously. Furiously. No sign of tears in _her_ face.


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of S.E. Hinton's characters - discriptions taken from F.F. Coppola's movie

* * *

**Brother – Best Friend and Mother**

"Hey, little buddy."

I wasn't exactly surprised to find Darry sitting on the porch steps, when I came home; after all, I would have been home long ago, if I had just walked from the station to our house.

After Sandy had left that afternoon, I had given my best to act as normal as possible. I had been able to joke around with the greasers and to tease the Socs. I had been able to defend Ponyboy and to give my two cents on the whole subject. I had been able to take part in the conversations about the increasing attacks and to share ideas for revenge. I had been able to just be me and to hide the fact that, inside, I was falling apart. I had been able to plan on going to visit the Multons and to make the hope of a positive outcome keep me going.

I hadn't even told my best friend yet; that had probably been harder than to keep it from all the other friends and customers. But on the other hand, Steve wasn't exactly the person to talk to about this. Had it been Evie who was forced to go away unless she married, I think Steve'd have backed out.

But now every emotion, every feeling I had stowed away this afternoon came crashing down with its – maybe -- tripled weight, so I was real glad that Darry was there so I had someone to talk to. I had rather talked to Pony though, because he knew I wanted to marry Sandy, and he was just generally more understanding in matters of emotion. But Pony wasn't there, and that made everything just harder.

"What's wrong, Pepsi?" Darry must have been real worried about me for him using all his – and Dad's – special nicknames for me.

I couldn't answer him; however, his presence made me loosen up enough to be able to cry. I think I couldn't have cried had it been Steve or Two-Bit, but with my brothers I didn't need to be all tuff.

Darry put his arm around my shoulder and let me have my cry. And when the tears had dried up, and all that came were coughing sobs he still didn't force me to tell him what was up.

Instead he started talking, nearly casually if it hadn't been for the subject.

"I met Dally today, by chance. He told me that he'd been questioned by the cops. They nearly forced him to confess having killed that Soc. They blame everything on him first. He was held at the station for quite a time and then they started to have him tell them where Pony and Johnny went. He doesn't know; he hadn't seen them since they were at the drive in. They still didn't give up, though, and he told them they'd run off to Texas. Two-Bit could hardly be kept from going after them."

"You met Two-Bit, too?" I had calmed down some since Darry had been talking.

"Yeah." Darry gave a short snort. "Those Socs are getting more and more aggressive; Dally and I came along when they attacked Two-Bit. They took off when they saw us; but we wouldn't have had to help anyway. He fights good."

"I know," I said, rubbing my chin in the memory of it meeting Two-Bit's fist some weeks ago. "Did you hear about that settling rumble?"

"Sure," Darry said, a smile playing on his lips, "in fact, it was me and Dally and Tim talking to some of them Socs about that idea."

"Really? Man, have you been workin' today at all, or have you gone wandering about Tulsa meeting people?"

"We happen to have a place downtown to roof. People happen to walk by and stop to talk. It doesn't only happen at gas stations," he added with a wink and with a tone that sounded as if he was about to ruffle my hair. I smiled back and then we kept quiet again.

"Let's go inside," Darry finally said, "it's getting cold."

Once inside, Darry headed for the kitchen, declaring: "Gonna make coffee -- want some? Or chocolate milk?"

I sank down onto the sofa, not even bothering to take off my jacket. "Chocolate milk, thanks," I replied.

I tried to think of nothing, but letting my eyes wander, I found myself looking at our family photos. I got up again, to take a closer look. We haven't changed anything about the photos since our parents' accident. There still were our grandparents' pictures, one of Mom and Dad's wedding, Little-Darry and Little-me with Baby-Pony, Dad and Darry after one of Darry's football games, Mom and Pony on his first day at school, Mom and Dad with Baby-Darry; and Mom and Dad with Baby-me.

"Darry, how long had Mom and Dad been married before you were born?"

Darry looked out of the kitchen, "Less than a year or so, why?"

"Just asking," I lied. I looked at the pictures of Mom and Dad for a while, then, swallowing a big lump that had build in my throat, went back to the sofa. I missed them.

"I miss them," my voice slightly broke. I could have talked to Mom about Sandy; she'd have known what to do. But I couldn't, she wasn't here, never would be here again. Tears began to roll out of the corners of my eyes. But neither could I go on keeping it to myself. I knew it'd break me some day; someday soon, too soon.

I really didn't want to bother my brother with my crap. All this stuff since Pony's disappearance was really wearing him out. He was taking it real hard that Pony first ran away because of him. He wouldn't say, but I knew he had major feelings of guilt.

However, there was nobody else I could talk to about it.

I watched Darry when he came out of the kitchen, carrying his coffee and my milk, and I knew he would understand me; or at least listen to me without declaring me crazy for acting like I did.

So when he had settled down onto the sofa next to me, I told him everything; about Sandy's weird acting the last few days, about her 'confession' today, and about the visit to her parents tonight.

During all my talk Darry had stayed quiet, watching me intensely. Now that I had finished, he sighed deeply, took his cup, downed all the coffee at once, and then leant back against the rest of the sofa.

"Soda," he said, "you're a real tuff boy. Really. I'm proud of you. I don't think there are many out there who would have done what you did. Even if it was an on-the-spot decision – don't you look at me like that; you tend to make those pretty often," he smiled, "even if it had been such a decision, there wouldn't be many who'd react that way even if it was their own child."

"But –"

"I don't think she's been lying. She wouldn't have waited to tell you until the day before she left if she was. If she'd really loved you as much as you love her, she would have wanted you to marry her. You deserve someone who loves you like you love them, little buddy."

I swallowed hard, unable to reply anything.

"I know it's hard; believe me, I know. But you have to accept it. Not today, not tomorrow, but someday."

I nodded.

Then Darry took me by the shoulders and made me turn my back to him.

"I'll try give you a back-rub. I'm not as good as you are, but you're the one who needs it," he explained. "Then you go to bed and try to sleep and you'll feel a bit better tomorrow. I'll have a chocolate cake waiting for you for breakfast."

Maybe talking to Darry really wasn't a bad idea at all, but then again, maybe Darry was more mothering than necesarry.


End file.
